Love Me Now
by GottaLoveToday
Summary: The aftermath of the final battle, and the budding relationship between Ron and Hermione finally comes into light. WARNING: DH Spoilers and a bit of a more tragically realistic view of the final battle's aftershocks i.e. character death


Based on the song by Bright Eyes, **No One Would Riot For Less**

**Love Me Now**

The Great Hall was filled with the sounds of happiness and laughter, tears of joy and victory running down the dirt and blood covered faces of the many exhausted witches and wizards who no longer had to live in constant fear.

The only thing Ron Weasley could hear, however, was the wracking, unnatural sounds of his mother weeping over his brother's lifeless body. His family had gathered around the heavily laden table the bodies were being laid on, all of them displaying their grief in their own ways.

Ron stood in the doorway of the small, makeshift morgue, and as he leaned against the doorpost, he found himself start to slide down it, the impossible weight of grief and disbelief that came with seeing someone so strong, so impervious to death or pain, lying there, eyes still open, all light and happiness gone.

He made to it to floor before he started crying, hot tears rolling down his face unhindered, and he thought of everything that had happened in just a few short hours. He had lost his brother. He had kissed Hermione, fully believing it to be the first and last time. He had seen his best friend in the entire world lying dead, broken at the feet of the man he loathed more than anyone in the entire world.

And then, by some miracle, Harry was alive. Harry was fighting, for all of them. Harry won. Ron had never felt so many emotions in his life.

He looked up from the spot on the floor he had been staring at without seeing when, as if from far away, he heard someone say his name.

"…where is Ron?"

Ron tried to clear his throat of the lump that was all of his unnamed emotions, and replied with a garbled "'m here."

Charley, who had his back to Ron while at the end of the table, turned around and spotted him, looking pitifully like the little 5 year old baby brother Ron had once been to him.

Ron looked up at Charley, tears still running silently down his soot-covered face, and watched as his big brother extended a long, burned hand toward him.

Ron smiled and reached up to take the offered hand, but snatched his arm away when he felt the most awful stab of pain just below his ribs.

He hissed in pain and clutched his side, struggling to remember when he had gotten hurt, and why it had taken him this long to figure it out. Meanwhile Charley, upon seeing his baby brother in pain, bent down to check him out.

"Ronnie, what's wrong mate? Ronnie? Oi, Bill, go get a healer I think Ron's hurt," yelled Charley, his voice rough and cracking.

"Ronnie? Oh god no Ron, my baby, are you all right," screamed a slightly grief-crazed Molly as she launched herself onto the ground next to her son, checking him for wounds and holding his head in her hands.

Ron suddenly felt very dizzy, and as he tried to reassure his desperate mother, his world went suddenly black.

Hermione Granger walked slowly arm in arm with her best friend, who just happened to be the same person to have saved them all from an awful fate. Well…almost all of them. As they reentered the almost unrecognizable Great Hall, the two friends were greeted with the sight of a few hundred witches and wizards, some wounded, others grieving over bodies that couldn't be fit into the makeshift morgue that Ron had left for a few minutes earlier.

Hermione felt a pang in her heart as she thought of Ron's face as he informed them of his destination. His eyes were clouded with grief, his face taut with emotion, and he asked them to come a little later, that he just needed to be with his family for the moment.

They both understood.

Harry put his arm around Hermione's shoulders and squeezed, apparently seeing her pained look as she thought of their friend, of the man she loved.

"We've just got to be strong for him, Mione," he said softly, and they stood there, right in the entrance to the Great Hall, watching as families were reunited, others informed of a loss, their hearts somehow feeling both light and heavy.

"Um... 'scuse me, Harry," said a gruff voice behind them.

They turned around, seeing Neville carrying a tiny, limp body in his arms.

"I knew he was yours, just thought I'd let you know before I take him to the… to the morgue," he said, a look on his face that suggested a man 20 years older than he actually was.

"Kreacher…" whispered Harry, a sad look once again gracing his features as he looked upon the dead house elf.

"I found him on the stairs. He was still holding a kitchen knife, I think a curse must've got him," said Neville, shifting the elf's weight in his arms, who was still wearing his coveted locket Harry had given him what felt like ages ago.

Harry nodded and muttered a quiet thanks to Neville, who was looking as though he wanted nothing more than to just lay down on the floor and sleep.

Hermione, who had watched the little scene quietly, turned to Harry as Neville walked on toward the morgue, and started to try and give him a few comforting words when suddenly a cry rang through the air, and all heads turned toward the doors of the entrance hall, where a tall black boy was holding the frail, lifeless body of a small, blonde girl.

Hermione and Harry rushed forward to find out what was going on, who was hurt, when suddenly the identity of the blonde girl clicked into both of their minds.

"Luna…" said Harry, shock evident in his shaky voice as he stopped suddenly, within feet of the sobbing Dean Thomas, who held her as though she was going to float away if he didn't hang on.

Harry walked forward slowly, tears for the first time springing to his eyes as he took in the sight of her once dreamy blue eyes, staring lifelessly back at him.

Hermione, a hand to her mouth, once again felt the hot tears roll down her face as well. Luna couldn't possibly be dead…

But the heart-wrenching sobs of Dean reassured everyone in the vicinity that she was indeed, gone.

A few minutes passed, with Dean's crying lessening a bit, before another cry was heard, this time from across the hall.

"Oi, we need a healer, right now, quickly, come on!"

Harry was shaken out of his slight reverie when he recognized the voice of Bill Weasley, a very distraught Bill Weasley, and he immediately ran toward him, Hermione, as ever, in pursuit.

When they reached the doorway into which Bill had disappeared after finding a healer, they were stopped short by the sight of a very unconscious Ron lying in the middle of the floor, a weeping Molly Weasley by his head and the entire Weasley clan fluttering about him. The healer was desperately trying to calm them all, and failing miserably.

The only thing that Hermione saw was Ron. Ron was hurt, and they hadn't even realized it. She hadn't even realized. She watched, as Ron was levitated out of the room, away from the corpses, and set upon the table farthest away from the bustling center of the Great Hall.

The Weasley's following suit gathered around him once more, this time joined by Harry, whose face was white and pulled taut with a fear he thought was never going to grip him again.

Hermione still stood in the doorway. She realized what was going to happen to her before it did, but she was too late to prepare herself. She got one word out before she too was overcome by blackness.

"Ron…"

AN: Well, my second attempt at a fic (the first didn't go so well) and this little scene has been in my head for a while. I'm still trying to decide whether or not to make this longer than a few chapters or not…It may yet be just a little Ron/Hermione ficlet filled with fluff… but I thought I'd go ahead and show the whole sad aftermath part. Well, I hope you enjoyed and review accordingly…flames are fine, just try and be civil!


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